B O N D P H O N E.
Words and pictures by Chris Lamb.

May's soundtrack was NEW ADVENTURES IN HI-FI on repeat through headphones till my ears crackled and rang in my sleep. Lots of nights driving home from Finnegan's or somewhere else with the windows down, letting the wind eat up the last cigarette of the day and shouting along to 'Bittersweet Me.' Laying on the floor with 'Electrolite' playing over and over again, waiting for the sky to come down. It was the right record for the mood; songs born in transit and still about wanting to be somewhere else. A claustrophobic's love letter to any where but here.

But then it was summer, and I was in New York, and the only song still speaking to me was 'Be Mine.' Like several tracks on NEW ADVENTURES, it works by adding cinematic touches to stripped down pop structure (see 'E-Bow The Letter' with it's wandering monolouge looking back on a teenage crush that meant everything but left nothing more permanent than the memory of it's weight Or 'Electrolite,' a letter filled with all the reassurances and longing of any relationship with a measure of distance involved, ending with Stipe abandoning it mid sentence to just go see her). But there's triumph here that most of the others are lacking, if not an assured victory then at least glorious defeat. Where other songs are self-doubting or reflective, unsure about what happens next or just not wanting to admit it, 'Be Mine' is standing in the rain, pulling words out of the air and meaning everyone, taking the heart from your sleeve to offer it without regret. Caling it a love song diminishes it's power - 'Be Mine' is perhaps THE love song, capturing as many sides as possible of the emotion in cold blooded clarity. It's the realization of true love in the way so many think BREAKFAST AT TIFFANY'S is, it's the dumb headswimminess of your favorite crush and the shimmer cutting through your stomach over the girl that just passed by. You love it for filling all the holes in your head. You hate Stipe for already saying it all back in '96.

So this is a pop summer, and that's no bad thing. After 'Be Mine' there was Bishop Allen at Mercury Lounge opening their set with 'Empire City' like 80's Cusack aiming a boombox at the bedroom window of the world. Walking around with Mike Doughty's 'Sunken Eyed Girl' pushing through my veins, only not knowing the words and just having the feeling of it sticking to my brain like napalm. My Favoritels 'Burning Hearts' coming back into my life in all it's post-apocalyptic glory, love at themoment the bomb hits. Belle and Sebastian's 'Seeing Other People' anda dozen others that keep my head from feeling properly attached. I've been thinking about pop music a lot over the last month; specifically, what makes it work and how well those rules play with real life. Sort of the Strummer Effect trimmed down to three and a half minutes. And like the SE, it will most likely come down to how well it works with girls.

Past three in the morning now and bed calls - the impromptu review above makes it clear I'm in no state to handle communication tools. More on this later, though, with dissection results posted in due time.